Tuesday, February 05, 2013

Phosphor


Nothing can be known

I think i know the night walking the treeline

With my breath ahead of me walking into wraiths

Wraiths walking me into the night

The snowy night in last light walking

The treeline luminous with the ghosts of summer

The luminous ghosts i think i know

I think they know me the recent dead

The luminous dead we think we know but

Nothing can be known.